“No human race is superior; no religious faith is inferior. All collective judgments are wrong. Only racists make them”
― Elie Wiesel
It’s been a hard week as a progressive. We want equality and yet it seems at every turn we see women and minorities under attack.
I’ve been following Facebook, Twitter, the live feed from the Texas capitol and listening to my friends in the religious bubble talk about what is going on with our justice system in relation to the George Zimmerman case. It seems like all my friends have more profound words than I do about miscarriages of justice.
Early on there was a campaign where everyone was saying “I am Trayvon Martin” to put themselves in solidarity with Trayvon. Solidarity is a good thing. But I have resisted saying that. I fear the truth is less that I am Trayvon Martin and more that I am George Zimmerman. Here’s what I mean.
I am a privileged person. My parents told me from the youngest age I could be whatever I wanted. That was more true than not and part of the reason is because our country has a lot of opportunity. It is also because I’m white, I’m male, and I’m a Protestant Christian. When I walk down the street nobody notices, nobody clutches their purse tighter, and nobody pulls their kids in closer because I’m simply within 100 yards. That’s privilege.
But here’s where it gets even worse. If I’m honest, I know that I look more times over my shoulder if a person of color is behind me in an area I don’t know than if a white person is behind me. That’s my dirty little secret. I know it’s wrong but it doesn’t change that my gut churns, fear grabs me, and I can’t resist keeping my eye on this other person just based on their skin color. Disgusting, isn’t it?
What I fear even amongst my progressive white male friends is that we are not always honest about our privilege and complicity. Like Jesus and that demoniac, we know what ails us and would like our own demons to be sent into George Zimmerman while pouring all our outrage onto him hoping that maybe we can punish him enough that it will relieve our guilt for ignoring the racial divide and becoming comfortable with it.
However, even if the verdict had been different, we might be able to have a false smugness for a while and could sink back into our favorite cause but nothing would really change.
Martin Luther King, Jr. said that 11 a.m. Sunday morning is the most segregated hour of the week. That’s still true even among us well-meaning progressives. When Paul said, “In Christ, there is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus,” he meant it. Even Paul, who we progressives like to argue with, got it right!
The story is told (by our white forbearers) that in 1750, a black slave asked Presbyterian preacher William Davies, ‘I come to you, sir, that you may tell me some good things concerning Jesus Christ and my duty to God, for I am resolved not to live any more as I have done. . . Lord [Sir], I want to be a Christian.'” From that the hymn by that name was written.
Whether it really happened that way or not, the truth today is that this Presbyterian preacher is coming hat in hand to his African-American brothers and sisters asking their forgiveness for my complicity even now in my everyday life and pleading with the words of that hymn that I and those like me might finally understand the meaning of this gospel of inclusivity that seeks to change our hearts:
Lord, I want to be a Christian
in my heart, in my heart.
Lord, I want to be a Christian in my heart.
In my heart, in my heart,
Lord, I want to be a Christian in my heart.
KYLE WALKER is the Transitional (Interim) Pastor at Faith Presbyterian Church in Austin, TX.
